A VISION IN RED
by Agent M
Summary: An unsolved case and a missing husband are just two of the teams problems. After a minor accident, Jane isn't sure he knows his own mind. Lisbon is feeling the strain of having some, quite literally, dead-end clues and Van Pelt seems to be hiding something. Another long one, but worth it, I hope. PLEASE REVIEW.


DISCLAIMER: The characters all belong to Bruno Heller. I've just borrowed them for inspiration.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm not a neurologist, so apologies for any medical inaccuracies! Consider it poetic license!

THANKS TO: The fantastic cast for making it so easy to write for them, especially the extremely talented Mr Baker (yummy!) and, of course, Mr Heller himself – genius!

**A VISION IN RED**

**Sacramento, CA**

As the fading sun painted the sky with amber streaks, Patrick Jane gratefully received the bag of Red Delicious from the fruit stall vendor. With parting thanks, he turned back towards the CBI building which stood dominant across the street. Before moving, he glanced to his right and stood pensively appreciating the silhouetted frame of the Sacramento Bridge in the late season sunset. The hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth and then widened as an idea clicked inside his head. He flipped open his cell phone and hit speed dial.

Lisbon answered with weary exasperation, "Where _are_ you? We were supposed to go through the evidence in the -"

"You're going to love me forever, Lisbon. I've got it!" announced Jane, enthusiastically.

"Forever is a long time, Jane… What is that you think you've got?" asked Lisbon, unenthusiastically playing along, although she wasn't quite sure why. Jane had promised her faithfully that he would help her with the onerous task of checking and re-checking that the evidence in the Patterson trial had been recorded and notarised. And yet, every time she'd brought up the subject, he'd conveniently vanished. She was getting tired of the excuses. They were on a deadline, not to mention in the middle of a very important case, concerning the high-profile Connelly family, which the Deputy AG wanted them to resolve ASAP. Jane's reticence towards the paperwork and his unhelpful comments about the on-going case having no decent suspects wasn't easing her tension headache any. "Got _what_?" she repeated, testily.

"Meet me downstairs and I'll tell you," he replied, mysteriously.

Lisbon exhaled, blowing out her irritation. "Tell me now…I'm kind of busy here."

"No, it'll be more fun if you come meet me. Besides, you need a break. You work too hard, Lisbon. A little fresh air will do you good."

The brunette sighed, resignedly. "_Where_ are you?" she asked, again.

"I'm across the street buying fruit."

Lisbon stood up from the large table next to Jane's couch in the bullpen and went over to the window. Sure enough, she could see him standing on the sidewalk, on the other side of the busy road, holding a brown grocery bag. "Oh yeah, so you are. There had better be some Red Delicious in that bag," she warned.

Jane, looked up towards the third floor window of the CBI, smiled and waved the bag as he stepped out on to the road.

"What else have you got?" asked Lisbon, trying to tease the information out of him. There was hint of a smile on her mouth. Jane's childlike enthusiasm about the fruit was somehow managing to make her irritation disappear.

With the bag still raised, a grinning Jane announced, "I know who killed Peter Connelly!"

Lisbon spun around, turning her back to the glass pane, "Who?" she demanded, with sudden interest.

"Guess," was Jane's playful reply.

Lisbon's irritation began to return and she was about to scold him for costing her time she couldn't afford to lose when she heard a sudden screech of brakes, followed by a heavy grunt and a dull thud down the line. Whirling back around to the window, she yelled into the handset, "_Jane?!_" Even before her eyes had registered the grey-suited figure lying prostrate on the ground surrounded by red apples, her feet had immediately launched her towards the nearby stairwell.

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**Mercy General Hospital, Sacramento, CA**

"Agent Lisbon?" asked the ER doctor. He had barely even managed to close the curtain to Jane's cubicle before the small brunette rushed over towards him.

"How's he doing?" enquired Lisbon.

"Pretty good, considering. There are no major injuries; just a nasty cut on the side of his hand, some bruising to his hip and a painful contusion on his head. His X-rays and CT scan came back clear. He's got a slight concussion and he'll probably feel a little bit stiff and sore over the next few days, but otherwise he's fine. He was lucky, it could have been a lot worse," reported the doctor.

Lisbon let out a breath. "Thanks. Can I see him?"

"Sure. We'll admit him overnight for monitoring but he should be good to go first thing in the morning." The handsome doctor smiled and left to begin the process of filling out an admittance form.

Lisbon pulled back the curtain to find Jane standing unsteadily, putting on his jacket. "And where do you think you're going?" she challenged.

Jane tried to make his eyes focus on her as he slid his bandaged hand into a sleeve. "Uhhh…anywhere but here." He rolled his eyes, which was a mistake as it caused him to sway. He steadied himself against the gurney.

Lisbon shook her head. "Uh-uh mister. The doctor says you need to stay overnight for monitoring." She patted the gurney.

Jane pulled a face. "Monitoring? Really?" he whined. "No thank you, Lisbon. I don't want Nurse Ratchet out there sitting by my bedside staring at me all night. I'll be fine monitoring myself back at CBI."

"You can't monitor yourself!" exclaimed Lisbon.

"Okay. I'll be fine with_ you_ monitoring me back at CBI then," responded Jane, as he swept back the curtain, decisively, and tried to work out which way to go to find the exit.

Lisbon's mouth fell open as Jane set off shakily, hobbling past the dishy ER doctor who had come to inform them that they would be taking him to a side room for the night. The brunette rolled her eyes at the doctor's questioning expression and asked for a release form, stating that she would monitor Jane herself and return him immediately if there were any issues. The doctor reluctantly agreed and gave her an AMA form to complete.

A few minutes later, she found Jane leaning against one of the tall palm trees that stood either side of the hospital's main entrance. His eyes were closed as he inhaled the night air and, with the fingertips of his bandaged hand, gingerly probed the raised purplish lump just above his right temple.

Lisbon stood pouting before him, with her hands thrust into the pockets of her jeans.

"No need to be grumpy, Lisbon," said Jane, with his eyes still closed.

"No?" growled the CBI agent. "First, you disappear at the first sign of paperwork –"

Jane opened his eyes. "You know I'm no good with that stuff…too tedious…my mind needs stimulation," he protested, shrugging a shoulder.

"Then you interrupt _me_ whilst_ I'm_ doing the paperwork, to play guessing games down the phone -"

"Games stimulate the brain, Lisbon; they can give you fresh outlook on things."

"And_ then_ … then you go and…and -"

Sensing the growing aggravation in the diminutive agent's tone, Jane needed to take the wind out of her sails before she really got going. He winced and gave his best pained expression, before finishing the sentence for her. "And then I go and get hit by a car, wasting more of your valuable time. Yes, I know. I truly am sorry, Lisbon." He stared earnestly into her eyes.

Lisbon immediately felt guilty. Her gaze shifted from his and she exhaled a weary breath. "Come on, let's go. Dr Henry said you need to rest." She reached out a hand and Jane let the small brunette guide him gently by the elbow towards the Suburban; taking care to make sure she was completely unaware of the tiny smirk of victory that flashed across his face.

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**CBI HQ, Sacramento, CA (several hours later)**

Lisbon closed the final folder and placed it into the document storage box that was to be sent over to the courthouse for the Patterson trial. She yawned as she picked up the lid and sealed the carton; then glanced over at Jane.

He was sleeping; laying full length on the brown leather couch behind the table where she had been working. The unit boss had checked on him every two hours as suggested by Dr Henry. Jane had stirred slightly a few times so she guessed there probably wasn't any lasting damage.

As she made her way to the kitchen area to get some coffee, she cricked her neck and her thoughts drifted to the Connelly case. Cho and Rigsby still hadn't reported back after following up no doubt yet another dead end lead in Oakland and, despite Jane's declaration earlier that he knew who Peter Connelly's killer was, when she'd asked him about it, he had no recollection of it at all. So she was still none-the-wiser; and still with no viable suspect. She decided to call Cho to see if they'd found out anything useful. Quietly, with a fresh cup of coffee, she headed to her office.

**The following morning**

It took a few moments for Jane's eyes to adjust to the brightness of the morning light streaming in through the window above his couch. He blinked a few times and then tried to swing his legs down in order to sit up. There was a serious aching in his right side and he whimpered gently at the movement. He winced as his head began to pound then let out a long breath and noticed Lisbon walking towards him with his cup and saucer.

"Hey," she greeted, "I was just about to wake you." She placed the beverage on the small filing drawer at the side of him. "How you feeling?"

Before Jane could answer, Cho arrived in the bullpen. He heard Lisbon's question and noticed the bruised and bandaged consultant. Looking directly at the wincing Jane, he asked, "What happened to you?"

Lisbon answered for him. "He got hit by a car."

With an unsympathetic tone, Cho nodded slightly, "Yeah, you shouldn't do that, it hurts." He continued towards his desk, took off his jacket and sat down.

Jane cast a strained, sardonically grateful smile at his colleague's obvious advisory statement, and then turned painfully to retrieve his drink. Taking pity on him, Lisbon helped out. "Thank you, Lisbon," he responded, as he took his first slurp.

After a few more mouthfuls, he began to feel a bit more like himself again. "What did you find out in Oakland?" he enquired of the Korean agent.

Cho looked up. "Nothing. Lead didn't pan out. We still got nothing."

Jane tried to be positive. "Well, we don't 'got _nothing'_," he mimicked Cho's pessimistic reply. He looked at Lisbon. "You said I said I knew who the killer was, right?"

Lisbon nodded. "Yeah… but you don't remember…"

Jane shrugged. "Well, no… but at least it's something."

Lisbon's brow creased. "That bump on the head must have really messed with your logical thought processes because, without that information, we are nowhere near closing this case."

Jane shrugged again. "I'm just saying, that's all. There's no need to be such gloomy gusses about it. It's just a matter of time…"

Lisbon's dissipating patience was beginning to show, "Time, huh? It's funny you should mention that because _there is no time_! I got the Deputy AG breathing down my neck, the Director on my ass and –"

"Boss?" Cho interrupted her, mid-flow, having just answered the phone. Lisbon looked across at him. "Deputy AG on line 2," he announced, clasping his hand over the mouthpiece.

Jane winced at the poisonous glare that Lisbon cast in his direction. "Put it through to my office," she ordered and stomped off past a bemused-looking Rigsby, who had just strolled into the bullpen to start his day shift.

"What's up with the boss?" he asked, benignly.

Jane looked up. He was just about to speak when Rigsby noticed the bruises and bandaged hand. "Whoah, what happened to you?"

Without looking up from the file on his desk, Cho answered monotonously, "Car hit him."

"Ouch…bet that hurt," stated Rigsby, raising an eyebrow and offering a sympathetic grimace.

"Oh no, not really," responded Jane, sardonically. He then focused his efforts back on his cup of tea.

Rigsby paused briefly, wondering whether or not Jane was being completely truthful, and then he made his way to his desk, just in time to answer the phone. He asked a few questions and took down a few details, then looked at Cho. "We caught another one. Missing man, presumed murdered in Arden-Arcade."

"_Presumed_ murdered?" queried Cho.

"Yeah, apparently there're signs of a struggle and a significant amount of blood to think foul play. SacPD are at the scene," answered Rigsby. "Funny…" He stood up and patted his jacket pockets for the car keys.

"What is?" asked Cho, grabbing his own jacket from the back of his chair.

"The alleged victim? Owns a funeral home." An amused smirk played on Rigsby's mouth.

Jane stood up from his couch, suddenly interested. "Well, at least if he _is_ dead, his burial costs will be covered." Both Cho and Rigsby looked at him with an unimpressed shake of their heads. "What?!" he asked, innocently, "I'm just saying…funerals don't come cheap these days…" He took a final slurp of his tea and placed the cup and saucer onto his desk "Who's driving?" he chirped, suddenly feeling refreshed. Rigsby waved a bunch of keys, which Cho grabbed from him.

"Hey!" moaned the tall agent, sulking slightly. He stopped his childish urge to wrestle them back when the boss walked in.

"Where we going?" asked Lisbon, who had materialised from her office, having once more reassured the Deputy AG that CBI were making every effort to find out what had happened to Peter Connelly.

"Arden-Arcade. We just caught a new one," reported Cho, moving towards the walkway.

Lisbon's shoulders slumped with her exhalation of breath. She rolled her eyes, "Great! Just what we need."

As they headed towards the elevator, Van Pelt came rushing in. "Sorry I'm late, boss. It won't happen again. I – " But before she could explain, Lisbon gestured towards the bullpen.

"Save it. The Patterson evidence carton needs to go to the County Courthouse and I need you to go through the Connelly files again. Rigsby will help you when he gets back."

Van Pelt nodded, although there was a quizzical crease on her brow at the sight of the lump on Jane's head. He rolled his eyes upwards in acknowledgement of her observation, gave a slight tilt of his head and, before she had a chance to ask, wrinkled his nose and whispered, "Car. And yes, it did."

Van Pelt returned her gaze to her boss. Lisbon's impatient stare gestured that the red-head should get a move on. A slight pout appeared on Grace's lips. She felt a little bit put out that everyone else was going out and here she was, stuck in the office, again. Even though she knew she was the junior agent, sometimes she felt that she was a little bit undervalued. Still, it suited her today. She needed time to gather her thoughts, especially after the unexpected way in which her day had started.

As the elevator doors closed and her colleagues headed off to the crime scene, she walked to the kitchen and poured herself a large coffee, then set to work; her first task was to arrange a courier to ferry the Patterson evidence to the courthouse. She dumped herself down into her seat and lifted the handset to her phone.

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**Lomax Residence, Fairway Estates, Arden-Arcade, CA**

The one-storey residence appeared very conservative from the outside; with its mottled red brick, waist-high boundary wall separating the front lawn from the veranda, and its plain putty-coloured weatherboard cladding on the main building. It looked very plain and business-like to Jane as he limped up the shrubbery-edged, gray-brick pathway towards the front door. There, he and Lisbon were greeted by a uniformed officer who introduced himself as Michael Eden.

As Lisbon went inside, Jane turned to take in the surrounding neighbourhood. It seemed like a quiet area; well-manicured lawns lined the roadway; driveways were in pristine condition and freshly painted mailboxes awaited deliveries. It was the perfect picture of middle-class suburbia. The only unusual feature was the band of yellow crime scene tape that stretched around the corner plot, and the numerous police vehicles parked outside. The consultant took one last look, paused to smell a miniature potted ornamental orange tree that stood at the side of the front door, and then stepped inside to catch up with Lisbon.

He found her seated at a large cherry-wood dining table in the kitchen-dining area which was bordered on one side by large fold-back glass doors, over-looking a patio by a reasonably sized pool. She was speaking softly to a honey-blonde, forty-something woman whose clenched hand was agitatedly tapping the table in front of her. In her other, she gripped a handkerchief which she persistently dabbed to her weary, reddened eyes.

"So, you got home about…?" probed Lisbon.

The woman looked up as Jane moved into the room. He offered her a sympathetic smile and then moved to the other side of the room to look at some of the photos on the side console. He placed his hands in his jacket pockets as he did so, wincing slightly at the pressure against the bandaged wound along the side of his right hand.

"Mrs Lomax?" coaxed Lisbon.

The woman looked back at the agent, a little startled, as if she had forgotten that Lisbon was even there. "Uh…yes…sorry. I got home about 6.30 this morning. I had been at work pretty much the whole night. We had a late intake – a young girl… I decided to deal with her personally …" She paused, and dabbed her eyes again.

"And this is at the funeral home that you and your husband run?"

"Uh, yes, that's right. Sometimes we have to work overnight," she sniffed, as Jane lifted a photo frame.

"Is this you and your husband?" he asked. She nodded in reply, and her lip began to quiver as her eyes drifted over towards the main living area where forensic techs were photographing the upturned coffee table and blood pool on the rug in front of a large, marble fireplace.

Jane said nothing more as he stared at the photo of the couple seated on a wall with an ocean view behind them. He pressed his lips together, nodded imperceptibly and then returned the frame to its rightful place.

"How many employees do you have at the funeral home?" questioned Lisbon.

"Uh, just two assistants; Jimmy Norton and Sofia Leszczynska, and a receptionist, Natasha Harrison. It's a small, family business. Tom took over after his father got too old to work," Maxine Lomax informed her.

Lisbon nodded in affirmation. "We're going to need to talk with them, and any other former employees you may have had. Do you have their contact details?"

Maxine nodded and wiped her eyes once more. She shifted in her seat as if to get up, then realised where she was. "Oh…the files are at the office. I'll have them sent over to you as soon as Tom –" She paused and stifled a sob. "Sorry…of course, I'll get Jimmy to bring them over." There was a brief pause. "Do you think Tom could have been taken by someone who used to work for us?"

Lisbon held up a hand. "We're exploring all avenues. We'll send someone to the funeral home to collect the files."

Jane noticed an almost imperceptible flash of uncertainty in the woman's eyes before she raised the handkerchief to her nose and nodded, "Of course." Her eyes glanced across to the old-fashioned clock that was affixed to the wall. "Jimmy should be there by now, his shift starts at eight."

"Is there anyone you can think of that might want to hurt Tom, or have a grudge against him in anyway?" asked Lisbon.

Mrs Lomax shook her head sadly as her eyes searched for a more helpful answer. "No. I can't think of anyone. Tom is a good man, Agent Lisbon. Everybody loves him." Maxine eyes began to well up again.

Lisbon glanced at Jane to check if he had anything to add or ask. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Therefore, after several more questions from the lead agent, and some gentle reassurance that they would do everything they could to find out what had happened to the woman's husband, Lisbon gestured to Jane that they were leaving.

As the two colleagues made their way back down the gray-brick path towards the Suburban, Jane declared, "We need to find the lover."

Lisbon looked at him and frowned, "Lover?"

"Yes," he stated, confidently. "Either one or the other of them had a lover…my money's on _Mrs_ Lomax…we need to find the lover and when we do, we'll find our killer."

Lisbon stopped in her tracks. "We don't even know if he's dead yet…What makes you think one of them was cheating? She seemed genuinely upset to me."

Jane let out a breath. He turned to face the dark-haired agent. "That's because she was…But not because her husband is missing." He elaborated at Lisbon's puzzled expression. "The photo in the dining room…It was staged to look like they were in love and happy in their marriage. But there was no chemistry between them. No chemistry, no satisfaction… ergo one of them has a lover."

Lisbon cocked her head and shrugged her mouth in acknowledgement of the idea, "Wait, so if it's not about her husband, why is she so upset?" she asked.

Jane looked pensive, "That, Lisbon, is a very good question."

He stepped up to the vehicle and sidled into the passenger seat whilst Lisbon caught up with Cho and Rigsby, who had been canvassing the neighbours' houses. Nobody had seen or heard anything unusual. The brunette let out an irritated breath. Another case with no leads. Perfect! She ordered Cho and Rigsby back to CBI, and told the taller agent to help Grace work the Connelly case. Cho was given the task of running background checks on Maxine and Thomas Lomax in order to find anything to confirm Jane's lover theory.

"Where we going?" asked Jane, as Lisbon returned to the vehicle and started the engine.

She gave him a wry look, "Guess," she teased.

Jane gave a childish shake of his head at her mimicry. "Funeral home," he predicted and grinned slightly as Lisbon's grumpy pout informed him that he was correct, as usual.

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**Lomax Funeral Home, Sacramento, CA**

Jimmy was in the back room - according to Natasha, the young, leggy blonde, who appeared to be the first port of call for bereaved clients wishing to make arrangements for their loved ones. She had a sweet, yet sympathetic smile that Jane thought was probably the reason she had been selected to work in Reception in the first place; but alongside the friendly, comforting demeanour, Jane had detected a genuine hint of sadness behind her vibrant blue eyes.

Lisbon raised her badge. "We're with the CBI, investigating the disappearance of Tom Lomax."

The girl let out a sorrowful sigh. "Jimmy just told me. It's awful. Do you have any idea what has happened to him?" she enquired, with an eagerness that suggested she had more than just a passing interest in the whereabouts of her boss.

"That's what we're here to try and figure out," replied Lisbon. "We're going to need copies of all the employee files – past and present," she prompted.

Natasha looked a little bit uncertain. Her eyes conveyed her hesitance. "I'm not sure…don't you need a warrant?" she asked.

Lisbon remained patient, "Not if we have the boss' permission. We just left Maxine Lomax. She said for you to hand them over." She smiled, although there was a glint in her expression that warned the receptionist not to make things difficult. The girl complied and went off into the back rooms.

Jane, meanwhile, had been checking out the greeting area. He had sniffed at a few flower arrangements, browsed through a couple of the leaflets offering different services and read through some of the cards of appreciation from clients, that had been framed and hung on the wall adjacent to the reception desk. Lisbon looked over at him as he stood, with his hands clasped loosely behind his back, trying his best to peer through the crack of a door that led off to the right, into what appeared to be a small chapel. He could just make out the shape of a casket through the open sliver.

"Jane!" she whispered, sounding a little bit like the owner of an unruly dog trying to bring him to heel. She repeated her scolding tone, but he ignored her voice and gently pushed the door open further with one hand. He looked back at her with a daring smirk and then disappeared in to the room. Lisbon's mouth dropped open in both horror and irritation. She hissed his name again, and when she got no response, followed after him.

Inside the room, she was met by row upon row of caskets of all varieties. Some were closed, but others were open. All were on raised podiums of varying heights. There was a numerous range - from eco-friendly ones to what looked like earthquake-proof ones; all of them had silky interior linings in a spectrum of colours. What she couldn't see, however, was Jane. "Jane?" she whispered, sharply. There was no reply.

She took another step towards a very large, open mahogany casket. Her heart almost leapt out of her mouth when the playful consultant suddenly reared up from behind it, "Boo!" he joked.

Lisbon managed to stop her startled shout from making it past her lips. "Cut it out!" she muttered through angrily-clenched teeth.

Jane broke into a wide grin, amused by her reaction, but also amused by what he had found. He pointed down at his side of the casket. "Look. One that's been customised."

Lisbon glared at him and then stepped around to see what he was pointing at. She was just about to make a comment about the distasteful decals, depicting flames, which bordered the base of the casket, when a male voice interrupted them. "Can I help you? Natasha said you were from the CBI. I'm Jimmy Norton." The man was younger than his voice portrayed; tall and athletic, too. It was an image that was incongruous to his surroundings. His eyes flitted fleetingly around the room, then landed on Jane, to whom he outstretched a hand. Jane shook it eagerly.

"Patrick Jane. This is Agent Teresa Lisbon," introduced the consultant. Lisbon fired off a thin-lipped smile and flashed her eyebrows by way of a greeting. Jane pointed to the customised casket. "People really pimp their caskets?" he enquired. His flippant tone seemed to make the young man tense up a little.

With a solemn expression and a serious tone beyond his years, Jimmy replied, "We try to cater for whatever requests the decedent or family members may make - within reason, of course. It may not be to everyone's taste but -" His gaze lingered on one of the large, closed, metallic caskets which rested along the wall to Jane's right "Some of our clients like to express their personalities post-mortem, and others like to take every precaution," he said, gesturing towards the gold-coloured casket that seemed to have small holes drilled along the sides of it.

"Okay," responded Jane, with an impressed shrug of his mouth. He glanced briefly at Lisbon. There was a playful look in his eyes. "So if I wanted say –"

Lisbon cut him off. "I think _that one_ would suit you just fine. Let's move on, shall we?" she said, pointedly looking from the flame casket to Jane. The cinnamon-blonde shrugged and folded his arms, carefully so as to avoid pressure against his wounded hand. Lisbon returned her gaze to the assistant. "Is there somewhere else we can talk?" she asked.

Jimmy took a step to one side and gestured towards the doorway with his arm, "Certainly. We can use Mr Lomax's office." He waited for Lisbon to go through the doorway first and then followed, leaving Jane to bring up the rear. Jane took one last sweeping look around at the catalogue of caskets and then bounded after them.

Tom Lomax's office was more like a study. It was a little too dark for Lisbon's liking. It seemed to be trying too hard to be homey. A shudder ran down her back; the place looked like something out of The Addams Family. '_Why would anyone want to feel at home in a place for the dead?_' she wondered to herself.

"Please take a seat," proffered the young man. Lisbon perched herself on one of the studded leather chairs that faced an ornate, mahogany desk. Jane shook his head slightly at the offer and moved instead to lean against a dark-wood bookcase that contained leather-bound books and a few ornamental flower arrangements on alternate shelves. His head was beginning to ache a little bit, probably from bending to check out the decals on the casket. Quietly, he took a deep breath, blinked a few times and tried to shake off the feeling that his brain was being starved of blood and oxygen.

As Lisbon began to question the assistant about his role and how long he had worked for the Lomax's, Jane cast his eyes around the room. Beneath Lisbon's seat lay a very expensive-looking, if slightly wrinkled, silk rug. It practically filled the floor space, hiding the hardwood flooring beneath except for the areas bordering the room, where the wooden skirting matched the deep brown hues. Jane took in the depressingly deep olive-green colour of the wall to the right of the mahogany desk and noticed that there was another door leading from the office. It had been painted to match the walls, presumably in an effort to make it less obvious. Without waiting for Lisbon to finish her next question, he pointed at the door and asked, "What's through there?"

Jimmy's eyes followed the consultant's extended finger. "It leads to the prep room in the basement," he informed them. Jane raised his eyebrows in interest. Lisbon briefly closed her eyes and gave a micro-shake of her head. She knew what was coming next – Jane had that all too familiar 'intrigued' look on his face. The consultant stood up straighter and took a step forwards.

"Can we take a look?" he asked.

Jimmy looked to Lisbon. She stood up, causing a floorboard to squeak. "It's standard procedure," she said, "We just need to take a brief look around, check everything's as it should be." Her reassuring tone was enough to convince Jimmy. He led the way through the doorway, missing the vexed parental look that Lisbon flashed at Jane.

A small flight of stone steps led down to the prep room. Lisbon shivered as the temperature dropped. When they reached the bottom, they stepped through yet another doorway into a room that wouldn't have looked out of place in a hospital morgue. In the centre of the white, clinical chamber was a stainless steel table with drainage channels running along each edge. The floor tiles beneath it were also ridged, sloping slightly inwards towards a grim-looking plughole located in the middle of the area beneath the table, so that fluids could easily drain away.

Jane had been deliberately casting his eyes around the cabinets on the walls, and the various pieces of equipment. He flinched slightly when they descended upon the steel table. It was presently occupied by a body, which had been mostly covered by a white sheet. All that was visible was the young woman's head and shoulders. She had thick, black hair in a bob-style and her pale complexion made her look like Snow White. Jane's eyes dropped to beneath the table where he noticed a reddish-brown streak at the edge of the drain in the floor, and what appeared to be a small clump of blonde hair. A distasteful expression flashed across his features.

He looked back up at the sound of footsteps on the other side of the room. Maxine Lomax had appeared from behind a curtain that separated the main room from a small storage area. She was wearing a white coat and latex gloves, was carrying a small tray containing cosmetic sponges, and was heading towards a stool to seat herself at the crown of the woman's head. The sight of each other took them all by surprise.

Jimmy was the first to speak. "Maxine! What are you doing here?" He rushed over to her and attempted to give her a hug. Maxine's eyes darted towards the two CBI colleagues, as she quickly pulled away from him.

Lisbon and Jane glanced at each other, before the experienced agent addressed the missing victim's wife. "Mrs Lomax?" Lisbon cocked her head questioningly. "What _are_ you doing here?"

Maxine exhaled a breath. "I'm sorry. I couldn't stay at home…thinking about Tom. I had to do something… I guess I figured work would take my mind off things." She looked down at the dead woman on the table and began to dab a make-up primer onto her face.

Jane noted that the decedent had some dark bruising and a deep laceration on one temple which the middle-aged woman was attempting to disguise with the make-up. He also noticed the cold look in Maxine Lomax's eyes as they scoured the cadaver's face. There was no tenderness in her touch, either. She seemed to be running on automatic pilot.

Jimmy placed a hand on Maxine's and stopped her action. "You shouldn't be doing this…not now. I'll get Sofia to finish up when she arrives." The athletic young man's voice was soft, yet firm and he gave a smile that had no doubt been employed countless times to reassure grief-stricken relatives.

Maxine's shoulders slumped. "Maybe you're right." She patted his hand, but retracted her fingers quickly when she sensed his lingering touch. The honey-blonde woman pushed back her stool and stood up, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come." She began to take off her white coat, but paused, remembering something. "Oh, Agent Lisbon…did you get the files you wanted?" She looked at Jimmy. "Jimmy, get the employee files for Agent Lisbon, would you, please?" Jimmy nodded. The distracted woman added, "Oh and Sofia won't be coming in. I had to let her go yesterday. You'll have to finish up here." She gestured towards the body on the table. Jimmy gave her a questioning look, but when she didn't respond, he slowly made his way back up to the office to retrieve the files.

The mention of Sofia's sudden dismissal had piqued Lisbon's interest as it could possibly provide someone with a motive for whatever had happened to Tom Lomax. Maybe it was going to turn out to be a disgruntled employee after all. She was about to ask Maxine Lomax for an explanation when the woman burst into hysterical sobbing. Jane glanced at Lisbon and gestured with his eyes that she should do something, whilst at the same time pointing towards the stairs to let her know that that was where he was heading. He gave a slight shrug and began to ascend the steps. Open-mouthed, Lisbon watched him go and then, with a heavy sigh, turned to the distressed woman.

Once back in the Suburban, Lisbon placed a bundle of folders on the backseat and glanced grouchily over at Jane. "Thanks for that," she retorted. But there was no response from the consultant. "You're being very quiet," she stated. There was a suspicious crease forming on her brow. She didn't like it when Jane went quiet – it usually meant he was plotting some daring ruse that would involve her going around apologising afterwards.

"Am I?" he answered, as if unaware of his own behaviour.

"Care to share?" she asked.

Jane's mouth shrugged, then flinched at the corners. He raised a hand to his bruised head, "Maybe later. I'm going to take a little nap." He pushed the button that made his seat gently recline.

Lisbon's suspicion turned to concern, "You okay?"

Jane's arms were crossed and his eyes were already closed as he responded, "I'm fine. Just uhh…a slight headache. Nothing to worry about." His tongue peeped out to wet his lips and he shifted in his seat. Lisbon looked at him for a few more seconds and then put the car into gear.

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**CBI HQ, Sacramento, CA**

"Dammit!" muttered Grace as she flipped the buff coloured folder shut.

Wayne looked up from his pile of files. "What's up?" he asked with soft concern.

Grace looked over at him gloomily. "I can't find whatever it is that Lisbon thinks is in these files, and it's driving me crazy. I've read them like a dozen times, and then some, and I still can't see anything that's going to help give us a viable suspect." She massaged her temples with her fingers, trying to visualize her frustration leaving her body.

Rigsby wandered over to her, placed his hands on her shoulders and began to knead the tightened muscles at the base of her neck. At first Grace seemed uncertain about his touch. "What are you doing?" she asked, suspiciously glancing around at him, yet unable to ignore the pleasurable sensation of releasing endorphins.

"Shhhh…I'm just trying to get rid of some of that tension that you always hold in your shoulders…you used to like it when - " Rigsby began to explain, then he remembered himself and cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed. "Ahem, I mean…what I meant to say was – " He took his hands from her shoulders.

"Wayne…" Grace interrupted him, but he was still trying to talk his way out of the situation.

"Sorry, I just…er…you seemed like you... –"

"Wayne…?"

"Sorry Grace…I –"

Grace reached out and grabbed his arm as he started to move away. He stopped and warily looked down at her, almost as if he expected her to start yelling at him. Instead, she gave him a closed-lip, grateful smile. "I did," she uttered, then with a meaningful look added, "I still do…Thanks." She smiled again, holding his gaze and squeezing his hand. Wayne returned a timid grin.

The moment was interrupted when Lisbon strode into the bullpen. "You find anything new in the Connelly files?" she asked the two agents.

"Uh, not yet, boss," answered Risgby, hastily moving back towards his desk. Lisbon looked at Van Pelt, who also shook her head. "Well, keep looking. There's got to be something, dammit!" Missing Grace's resentful roll of her eyes, the lead agent then glanced over at the only empty desk. "Where's Cho?" she enquired.

Rigsby replied, ""Went to follow up on something he found out about Tom Lomax."

"Did he say what?" demanded Lisbon. Wayne shook his head. "Well, at least one of us seems to be doing our jobs," growled the brunette, testily.

At that moment, Jane wandered into the bullpen carrying his favourite blue cup and saucer. He placed it down on the low filing drawers at the side of his couch and sat down, then shifted himself into a reclining position with one hand hovering over his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose. Lisbon looked over at him. A crease formed on her brow.

"You sure you're okay?" she asked, though there was still an edge of grumpiness to her voice.

Jane waved his raised hand dismissively. "Yeah, I'm fine. No need to worry about me. I'm just thinking that's all."

Lisbon readily accepted his answer because it was obvious to her that he wasn't prepared to tell her whatever it was that was on his mind just yet. She huffed off to her office with the stack of employee files from the funeral home. Rigsby and Van Pelt swapped glances at each other, wary of her irritability.

Jane lay quietly on his couch. He was trying to work out what was going on inside his head. All through his nap on the journey back to CBI he had been experiencing images flashing through his mind. They were foggy and blurred, and he couldn't really make them out, but that wasn't the only thing. Alongside them came feelings, detached feelings – what some of the more gullible fools might describe as an out-of-body experience, except he didn't get the impression the feelings were about his own body. It was all nonsense of course, just the mind playing tricks on him - probably an after effect of the blow to his head, but it was a little bit unsettling. He was more intrigued than concerned about it at this point but, until he could figure it out or it disappeared altogether, he decided to keep it to himself.

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**Midtown Sacramento, CA**

Cho was just getting back into his car when his phone rang. It was Lisbon. He informed her that he had discovered something in Tom Lomax's financial records that hadn't added up, and it had turned out that Lomax had been depositing a consistent amount of money into an anonymous overseas account each month. After some digging around, Cho had uncovered the name and location of the anonymous account holder – an Irenka Leszczynska in an area called Dębniki just outside Krakow, Poland. Lisbon had told him to swing by Maxine Lomax's house on the way back and to bring her in with him; she had some more questions she wanted to ask her about her former employee.

**CBI HQ, Sacramento, CA**

"You were right… well, almost," stated Lisbon, as she approached Jane's couch.

"About what this time?" queried the sleepy consultant. Then the rest of her words sank in. He shifted onto his elbow and looked up at her, "Almost?"

"It looks like there _was_ a lover, only it was Tom Lomax who was cheating, not his wife."

Jane looked thoughtful, checking through his mind. He lay back down, mulling it over out loud. "Hmmm, the husband…" After a few seconds, he added confidently, "Nope, that's not it. Keep digging. The widow is definitely hiding something."

Lisbon shook her head with an unconvinced grin. "You're so sure he's dead… Well, I've got Cho bringing _Mrs_ Lomax in so…you wanna help prove your theory?"

Jane let out a weary sigh. He sat up with a petulant roll of his eyes, "Okay. But there's something I need to do first." And with that he stood, a little creakily, and half-limped out of the bullpen leaving Lisbon behind with a puzzled expression on her face.

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Lisbon paused after stepping out of the interview room. Where the hell Jane was, she didn't know. He was supposed to have been in on the interview with Maxine Lomax, but had mysteriously vanished, again. Still, the pint-sized agent had managed to get more pieces to fit into the puzzle without the consultant's help.

It turned out that the wife had known for a while that her husband had been sending money to Poland; all with her blessing. Their recently-former employee, Sofia Leszczynska had come over to America in order to make a better life for her family back home. She had asked for part of her wages to be transferred to an account in her mother's name, back home in Dębniki, and the Lomaxes had been only too glad to help, sometimes adding a little extra to the pot in order to help out. But then Maxine had become aware that Sofia had also been getting more than her money's-worth from the family businessman. She had discovered that her husband had been conducting an affair with the twenty year old blonde, right under her nose. She had confronted Sofia at work and fired her on the spot. She hadn't seen her since the day before yesterday – which also happened to be the day Tom Lomax had been last seen. Not having had the chance to confront _him_, Maxine claimed that she had assumed that Sofia had gone running to her husband and that they had left together. She then admitted faking the crime scene, using blood drained from one of the bodies at the funeral home, because she was so embarrassed that her husband had left her for a much younger woman.

The experienced agent wasn't completely convinced by the story, however. There were still a few things to check out, but it explained why forensics had reported that the blood at the scene had been from a female, not a male, and it _was_ a confession – of sorts. Maxine Lomas would be charged in due course with wasting police resources but for the moment she was free to go, after Cho had finished up with her in the interview room.

Lisbon made her way towards her office, almost bumping into Jane as he wandered along the corridor -adjacent to the interview rooms. He was making his way from roof stairwell towards the bullpen. "Where the hell have you been?" she asked, piqued.

Jane shrugged apologetically, "Sorry… must have drifted off upstairs."

Lisbon shook her head irritably and threw out a glare. She had an idea of where he'd been – up in his eyrie in the roof-space hunting for more information about his prey, Red John, instead of down there helping to find the missing Tom Lomax, or figuring out who had killed Peter Connelly. She huffed out a breath and pushed the door to her office.

Jane followed, holding the door wide open. Lisbon was just about to give him a piece of her mind about not pulling his weight and his pathetic excuses, when in his peripheral vision Jane noticed Cho coming towards them, escorting Maxine Lomax to the elevator. The consultant did a double-take. Behind them, Rigsby was just about to show Jimmy Norton out - whom the former San Diego cop had been interviewing. He had been working his way through the employee files that Lisbon had asked him to check out. Next up was going to be Natasha, the leggy blonde - an interview Wayne was actually looking forward to.

As they all approached, a searing pain shot behind Jane's eyeballs, causing him to squeeze his eyelids shut and emit a small moan.

"Jane?" Lisbon moved quickly towards him as he fought to blink the room back into focus. He was breathing quickly and lumbered a step towards Maxine Lomas. He reached out a hand and took her by the wrist. As he did, another loud moan escaped his lips. He let go of the startled woman and pulled back into Lisbon's office, shaking his head. Lisbon and Cho swapped looks of deep concern. Rigsby and Jimmy stopped in their tracks. Lisbon shouted for someone to call an ambulance, but Jane told her not to. "No! No, I'm okay, really." He blinked and opened his eyes, looking towards, but not directly at, the confused Maxine.

"Where am I?" asked Jane, his eyes speedily pacing the area of wooden flooring in front of him. Lisbon was about to answer by telling him to sit down and take it easy, when he continued in stilted sentences. "I'm lying down…in a bed…no, wait…not a bed…padded like a bed but not a bed…" The consultant closed his eyes and raised a hand in front of the bruise on his head. Almost as if he was plucking a thought out of the air, he reached out with splayed fingers. All the while he was breathing hard and moaning softly. Maxine Lomax looked perplexed, but horrified at the same time. Lisbon, however, was beginning to feel a sense of déjà vu. When she finally remembered where she'd seen this act before, she tried to keep up the pretence, although inwardly less concerned now that she had figured out what Jane was up to. "There are walls," whispered Jane, hoarsely, "Walls…so close…" He doubled over slightly and placed his hand across his mouth. "I can't breathe…the walls are too close…" Jane took a step backwards and began to lie down on the large, cream sofa, that he had bought for his own comfort (as Lisbon's previous one had been too small and too hard).

As he shifted onto his side, with a hand splayed across his face, he moaned loudly and squeezed his eyes shut. "Red!" he shouted, "I can see red…oh please no…no!" He began whimpering softly, breathing rapidly, and mumbling about a red glow. Then he let out a sharp breath and was silent and still.

Lisbon ordered Cho to escort Maxine Lomax out of there, but to take Rigsby and conduct a thorough search of the funeral home. Cho nodded and looked at Rigsby, who also nodded and turned to speak to Jimmy Norton, but the young assistant had gone. Rigsby's lips parted as if he was about to ask something, but then he shrugged, figuring Norton had taken the other exit route. He followed Cho to the elevator.

Lisbon went back into her office, allowing the door to swish shut behind her. "It's okay, she's gone. You can get up now," she said to the motionless Jane, who was still lying on the couch with his eyes closed. "Nice act," continued the agent, admiringly, "You almost had _me_ buying it." Jane didn't move, or respond. Lisbon took a step closer to him. "Jane?" She reached out a tentative hand and tapped his shoulder gently. There was still no response. A slight twitching of his hand caught her eye. "Oh no," she muttered, pulling out her cell phone. She dialled quickly. "Yes, I need an ambulance to the third floor of the CBI right now! I've got an agent down having some kind of seizure!"

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**Mercy General Hospital, Sacramento, CA**

"But you said the CT scans were clear," accused a very concerned Lisbon.

Handsome Dr Henry shrugged slightly, a little bit nonplussed. "And they were, but there seems to be some anomalous activity going on in his brain right now that we can't track down. We're running further tests and I've arranged MRI and PET scans to see if we can locate the cause," he assured.

Lisbon exhaled heavily. The physician placed a hand on her upper arm. "It's just a matter of time before we find out. We just have to be patient." He gave her a reassuring smile. Was it wrong of her to appreciate his good looks whilst Jane was lying in a hospital bed with who knows what wrong with him? It was, however, only a fleeting thought that she pushed away as soon as it arrived. Mostly, she was thinking about the words the doctor had just said and the fact that they were almost exactly the same words Jane had spoken earlier that morning.

"Can I see him?" she asked.

Dr Henry gestured towards to the door to Jane's room. "He may be a little out of it, but that's down to the anticonvulsant we had to give him." Lisbon thanked the good doctor and pushed through the door, leaving him to go about his business.

The first thing she noticed was that Jane's bed was empty. Her eyes frantically scanned the room and alighted upon the door to the en suite bathroom. It was slightly ajar and she could hear rustling behind it. "Jane?" she probed, "You in there?"

His head popped around the door. "Oh hey, Lisbon!" His hair was all messed up and resembled the style of someone who'd just received a rather large electric shock, and his eyes were wide-open in a mixture of childish intoxication. Then he appeared fully in the doorway and stood grinning at her in his loosely fitting hospital gown. He was as high as a kite. Lisbon couldn't help but smile back at his uncharacteristically dishevelled state. A small chuckle escaped her lips.

"What you doing?" she asked still grinning, her sing-song tone betraying the fact that she was addressing a grown man.

"Oh nothing," replied Jane, innocently, yet casting a look over each of his shoulders as if he'd been caught in the act of doing something he shouldn't have been doing. He swayed a little and then regained his balance. "What_chu_ doin'?" he asked.

Lisbon reached out a hand and gently pulled him towards her. "Helping you get back into bed, that's what I'm doing," she stated, firmly. From behind she pushed him gently forwards by placing one hand in the centre of his shoulder blades, whilst drawing his open gown together with the other, and trying to avert her eyes. She chuckled again at his slurred response.

"If you insis'…bu' you'll still respec' me in the mornin' won'tchu Lisbon?"

As soon as his head hit the pillow, he seemed to go out like a light. Lisbon pulled the covers over him and sat down in the chair at the side of his bed. There was an amused grin on her face as she shook her head at his antics, and briefly closed her weary eyes.

A few moments later, the peacefulness in the room was disturbed by the ringing of her cell phone. It was Cho. They'd found Tom Lomax - alive, but only just.

"Where?" asked Lisbon, standing up as the porters arrived to take Jane for his scans.

"In one of the caskets in the showroom. It had holes drilled in the sides so that air could get in," reported Cho. "Lucky we got to him in time. Paramedics say he's suffering from hypoxia. Another half hour and we wouldn't have needed to remove him."

"Well, I'll be damned," exclaimed the brunette. She listened distractedly to her senior agent's report as Jane's hospital bed was wheeled out of his room, disappearing along the corridor towards the elevator.

"Yeah, but that's not all," stated Cho.

An intrigued crease appeared on Lisbon's brow as she re-focused her attention on the conversation. "Oh? Go on," she urged.

"The casket we found him in? Was lined in red silk. There was also a small flashlight affixed at the head end. It was turned on so that Lomax could see where he was. I guess to add to his torment. Sounds exactly like Jane's description, but how the hell did he know?"

Lisbon's mouth opened in disbelief. She shook her head. "I have absolutely no idea. Maybe he worked it out when we were at the funeral home," she suggested.

"But if that was the case, why not walk over to the casket and release the guy?" asked Cho, adding, "Even Jane's not that sadistic."

"Yeah, you're right… he must have picked up on something Maxine Lomas said. You and Rigsby need to pick her up again. And this time we need to get a full confession," said Lisbon.

"No need. She didn't do it," responded Cho. Then he added, "When we got here, we found Jimmy Norton in Lomax's office. He'd pulled up some of the floorboards and was emptying bundles of cash from a hidden safe into a holdall. He's confessed to the kidnapping. Says he did it to _protect_ Maxine Lomas; that she didn't know anything about it."

Lisbon sighed, a little bit confused. Jane had seemed convinced that the wife was behind it all. "Okay. Bring them both in. Let's see if we can close at least one case today." She hung up the phone and then quickly hit speed dial again.

**CBI HQ, Sacramento, CA**

The ringing handset of her desk phone startled Grace. Her eyes darted around the bullpen as she hastily placed a card back into its envelope and shoved them both into her top drawer. She snatched up the handset.

"CBI, Van Pelt… Oh hey, Lisbon. How's Jane?" she asked, with genuine concern about the consultant. She listened intently to the response, then replied to her boss' query. "Actually, yes, I think I might have found something useful." She elaborated, "It involves a contractual spat but it could provide motive. It's too complicated to tell you down the phone. Let me keep digging and I'll fill you in when you get back."

Grace wanted to end the conversation quickly, and her eyes darted back to her desk drawer. As she replaced the handset with one hand, her other retrieved the envelope. She checked to make sure there was no one around and then pulled out the card again. A thoughtful smile appeared on her face as she stared at the cursive message within.

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**Interview room, CBI, Sacramento, CA**

"So, Jimmy. Tell me again why you kidnapped your boss," demanded Cho. He was seated across the table from the young assistant, resting his loosely clasped hands on a buff-coloured file.

Jimmy wasn't quite as comfortable in his seat. His eyes were darting from the file to Cho, to Rigsby, who was pulling up a chair beside his partner. They had placed Maxine Lomax in the interview room next door and left Ron guarding her. Cho had decided to wait for Lisbon to return before questioning the perplexing wife further. First, in Room 306, he wanted to get the kid's story.

The Korean's emotionless, expectant stare bore a hole through Jimmy. The athletic youth breathed deeply in and then out through his nose. He leaned forward in his seat, feet apart and planted in a firm stance.

"I did it to protect Maxine," he began, pointing a finger to the table as if to emphasise his announcement.

"Yeah, you said. Why'd she need protecting?" questioned Cho, monotonously.

"Because her husband is a jerk-off, and she deserves better," stated Norton, adamantly.

"She deserves _you_," interjected Rigbsy, with an understanding look. Norton nodded enthusiastically in response. Rigsby and Cho exchanged quick glances. Wayne turned his empathetic gaze back to Jimmy. "Why don't you start at the beginning?" he encouraged, "Let's see if we can't work this thing out?" His tone was gentle and reassuring enough to get the younger man to feel a little more at ease about the interrogation. Jimmy leaned back less forcefully and began to talk.

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**Mercy General, Sacramento, CA**

Jane could just about make out Lisbon's silhouette as his eyes began to focus. He blinked a couple of times to adjust to the light. The brunette smiled, "Hey! Welcome back. How you feeling? You were pretty out of it there for a while."

Jane lifted himself up slightly onto his elbows, raising his fingertips to his pounding head. It was like having a severe hangover that just wouldn't go away. He paused as he began to get tiny flashbacks – the touch of Lisbon's hand on his back; the sensation of cool air on the exposed skin beneath his gown. He looked at Lisbon, she had a goofy-looking grin on her face. A flash of trepidation crossed his brow, "I didn't do anything embarrassing, did I?"

Lisbon shrugged. "No more than usual," she replied.

Jane took a deep breath and let it out in relief. He shuffled himself up into a sitting position, and Lisbon placed another pillow behind him.

"Mark says you're going to be okay," she reported.

Jane raised an eyebrow, "Mark?"

Lisbon pushed her hands deep into her pockets, instantly regretting the informality to her announcement. "Uh…Dr Henry," she explained, trying to bluff through her mistake by giving more details about Jane's condition. "Apparently, you had some kind of temporal lobe incident. Slight bruising inside your head or something; that's what caused your seizure…"

Jane's eyes looked towards the ceiling, searching for some recollection of what she was telling him. "I had a seizure?" He seemed surprised.

A wrinkle appeared on Lisbon's brow. "You don't remember? You were giving the fake reading to Maxine Lomax?…Good call on that by the way, we found her husband right where you described…" She gave him a further quizzical look at the blank expression on his face. "Then you had some kind of episode. You don't remember _any of this_?"

Jane shrugged a shoulder. "Well, maybe Dr Henry can offer us some reasons why," he uttered and glanced at the door which opened a split second later, as Dr Mark Henry entered the room.

"How's our patient doing?" he asked.

Lisbon flashed an incredulous look at Jane. Her mouth formed the word 'how?' but the consultant brushed it off and addressed the doctor directly. "I'm fine. You people worry too much. So tell me doc, when can I get out of here?"

The doctor picked up the medical chart at the end of the bed and began to peruse its contents. Jane sneaked a sideways glance at his pint-sized partner. Was there a tinge of pink in her cheeks? He did a quick double-take and a grin flashed upon his face. It vanished immediately when Lisbon looked directly at him.

"We need to keep an eye out for anymore after-effects – hallucinations and such like – Teresa told me about the visual disturbance you appeared to have just before the seizure. It's a common symptom of temporal lobe episodes; but I see nothing here to indicate that we need to keep you more than a day or two," said Mark.

Jane pulled a whiney face. "Come on, doc you're killin' me here…" He glanced at Lisbon, mocking her. "_Teresa_? Help me out, would ya? Use some of your womanly wiles on him and convince him to let me go," he teased.

Lisbon looked as if she wished the ground would open up and swallow Jane whole. She glared pointedly at him through clenched teeth, then turned on the smile as she addressed a bemused looking Mark. "He's just messing around that's all…" she gushed, "He does that…a lot. Pay him no attention." Surreptitiously, she pinched Jane's hand in an attempt to nip his antics in the bud, but it only served to increase his intent to cause mischief.

"Well," began the doctor, "I'm afraid I can't see inside your head, Mr Jane, so we're just going to have to keep you a while longer."

Jane rested a finger on his lips as he pondered the doctor's words. A look of fear flash across Lisbon's face. The mischievous dark-blonde pointed towards the physician, "_I_ can see inside _your_ head," he stated quickly. The fear tightened its grip on his chestnut-haired colleague's features. Jane pointed sideways towards her with his finger and continued with a twinkle in his eye, "Can see inside Lisbon's too!" He winked at her.

Lisbon threw out a warning glare in his direction, simultaneously directing her words towards the medical professional, "No he can't!" She moved towards the handsome doctor, her arms outstretched in an effort to suggest that they should leave, and quickly. "I think we should talk outside," she blurted.

But Jane was having too much fun. As the dark-haired agent managed to get Mark through the door, the consultant fired off his final remark, "Shall I tell the good doctor what you're thinking, Lisbon? All those little fantasies you have about men in white coats? - "

"Okay… That's enough! What is wrong with you?" hissed Lisbon, sticking her head back into the room. Her peeved stare was murderous. "You know what? Just as soon as you're fully recovered, I'm going to kill you!"

"I knew you were going to say that, Lisbon!" responded the consultant, playfully. "Know how I knew?" He raised both index fingers to his temples and fired a knowing look at her, "I can see inside your head!" He punctuated his statement with a raised eyebrow and a flash of his greyish-green eyes.

Without uttering a word, Lisbon shot a loaded scowl at him. She then stomped off to apologise to Dr Henry and to see if there was any way she could make up for Jane's humiliating antics.

Jane tilted his head and formed an 'oooh' with his lips. He flashed his eyes, "Got _that_!" he muttered with a reproving look towards the door. Once more alone, he let out a lengthy sigh of boredom, letting his eyes roam the room whilst he worked out what to do next.

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**CBI HQ, Sacramento, CA (a couple of days later)**

Jane crossed the bullpen from the kitchen area, slurping from his cup and saucer. He sat down in his usual spot at the end of the brown leather couch. He was moving a lot easier now, as his bruised hip was beginning to heal. His headaches had subsided too, thankfully, although Lisbon hadn't quite yet forgiven him for his merciless antics in front of Dr Mark Henry. She'd been pretty much giving him the silent treatment since he'd released himself from the hospital, but every now and then she would hurl loaded looks in his direction. Jane shrugged to himself, remorselessly. He'd been bored - stuck in that hospital cell - and Lisbon knew only too well what would happen if his mind wasn't provided with any stimulation. She only had herself to blame, he mused.

He looked over at Van Pelt. He'd noticed a slight shift in the youngest agent's temperament over the last few weeks, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it. She seemed more relaxed and peaceful than usual – almost serene. For the months previous, in the aftermath of the O'Laughlin incident, she'd almost gone off the rails a little; struggling to cope with her anger - but now she looked as though she'd managed to quell her demons and move on. A fleeting feeling of jealousy rippled through Jane's mind, so he turned his attention to Rigsby, who had just said something.

"Hmmm, what?" asked Jane, slowly allowing his eyes to drift from Van Pelt to the second-most gullible agent.

"I said, how did you know that Lomax was in that casket and that his wife had killed his lover?" repeated Rigsby.

It had turned out that Jimmy, the assistant, had had a serious crush-obsession with Maxine Lomax. He had discovered her husband's indiscretion with the former employee, Sofia, and had confronted him in the office when no one else was about and tried to extort some money out of him, so that he could take Maxine away and treat her the way she was meant to be treated. Lomax had refused and threatened to fire Norton. A scuffle broke out and Jimmy knocked Lomax out, then drugged him and placed him into the gold casket, hoping that no one would realise before he could get the chance to dispose of him properly.

In the meantime, Maxine had uncovered the truth about her husband and had lured Sofia to the home in Fairview Estates under the premise that they were picking something up. She had then confronted the Polish blonde and, in the ensuing struggle had upturned the coffee table and hit her across the temple with the fire poker, causing a massive head wound which had bled profusely. When she'd realised that the girl was dead, she'd loaded her into the back of the Funeral Home's van (in which they had arrived) and took her down into the prep room. None of the neighbours had apparently mentioned the van because it was a frequent sight at all hours of the day.

"Well, it was obvious really," explained Jane. "Where better to hide someone than in a casket at a Funeral Home?"

"Yeah, but the red lining? That was freaky."

Jane cocked his head, "Lucky guess…There were a whole bunch of colours, I just picked one."

Rigsby considered it but there was something in the consultant's pensive gaze that didn't totally convince him. Jane, however, had moved on. "As for the wife…it was clear she was upset about _some_thing – her anger and embarrassment at husband's affair was the perfect trigger."

A frown positioned itself between Rigsby's eyebrows as he tried to put all the pieces together. "Yeah, but how did you know that the body in the prep room would turn out to be Sofia Leszczynska? The photo in her file showed that she had long, blonde hair. The body at the funeral home bore no resemblance."

Jane pondered for a moment, then took another slurp from his tea. He was imagining the room as he had seen it that day. He tilted his head, and dropped his eyes slightly, not directing his gaze at anyone in particular. "There was a small clump of blonde hair underneath the preparation table. Funeral Homes don't tend to shave the heads of the bodies they handle. It would be tantamount to the mutilation of a corpse, which, correct me if I'm wrong is an offense, according to your laws…" He paused and looked up to see Rigsby give an affirmative nod. Then he continued, "Add to that the cold look in her eye and the heavy-handed touch as she tried to cover up the deadly injury that she had caused…" He shrugged. "It all just seemed to fit."

Rigsby let out a satisfied breath. He looked at Cho, who had also been listening in from his desk, "Some woman, huh? Got to hand it to her though, I mean, she murders her husband's lover in cold blood and then parades the body right in front of our noses."

"Yeah, not to mention the fact that the missing husband was in reach of Lisbon and Jane the whole time they were at the funeral home," added Cho, nonchalantly.

"Let's just put a pin in that particular thought, shall we?" ordered Lisbon, as she strolled into the bullpen. "We closed a case, that's all we need to remember." She glanced over at Jane. "Oh and you were right…again. Turns out Maxine Lomax _was_ having an affair after all…with a Michael Eden, the uniformed officer who greeted us at her house." She shook her head, not quite believing the countless clues that had been there all along. "Right there in front of us, clear as the sun up in the sky."

Her flippant statement triggered something in Jane's memory. He glanced at her quickly, then suddenly stood up and strode purposefully over to Van Pelt's desk. Grace was a little taken aback by his sudden arrival at her side.

Placing his cup and saucer on the red-head's desk and giving Lisbon a sideways look, he spoke with urgency, "You said that the Connelly case involved a contractual spat? Some production company… what was it called…?" Both Lisbon and Grace nodded as Jane began to riffle through the papers on the junior agent's desk.

"Yeah, I was just coming to ask Grace about that," interjected Lisbon, intrigued by the consultant's sudden activity. "What about it?"

"Ah-ha!" exclaimed Jane, holding a piece of paper in his hand. His eyes registered the logo at the top of the legal document. "Sundown Productions!" he read out loud.

Grace looked from Jane to Lisbon and began to fill them in on what she had found. "Uh, yeah…Apparently Peter Connelly wanted to break into the movie business and had been in talks with a small production company in LA, called Sundown Productions. Cut a long story short, he signed a contract with them but then reneged on the deal, deciding to invest his money with a different company…" She took a breath, "He claimed artistic differences… Anyway, due to a bust up with the CEO of the _second_ company, he also pulled out of _their_ contract and decided to go back to Sundown…" She paused for a moment, to make sure Lisbon was taking all of this in.

Although he was listening, Jane's eyes were scouring the page in front of him for the name he was looking for. With a satisfied smack of his hand on the paper, he announced, "Jacob Bridge! He's your man. He killed Peter Connelly!"

Lisbon looked puzzled, but very interested. She forgot about the grudge she was trying to keep against the consultant. Right now, all she wanted were the answers that would solve this case and get the Deputy AG and Director Bertram off her back. "Jacob Bridge? The CEO? What motive does he have?"

With renewed vigour, Grace tapped the keyboard of her computer. "_That's_ what I was just about to tell you…The company filed for bankruptcy…" She tapped the keyboard, "… not long after Connelly pulled out. Apparently, their other backers got wind of Connelly's pull-out and decided that, being the shrewd, high-profile businessman that he was, maybe he knew something they didn't."

"How come we missed this?" asked Lisbon.

Cho stated what they were all thinking. "Losing his business like that? Got to make a man mad. Provides motive," he suggested, looking up at the diminutive agent from his seated position.

Lisbon looked at Wayne. "Rigsby? You interviewed him, right? Did Bridge seem to be bearing a grudge?" she questioned.

"_Grudges_!" quipped Jane, rolling his eyes. "Waste of time if you ask me!" he shrugged mockingly, which drew incredulous looks from the whole team.

Rigsby shook his head and shrugged the corners of his mouth, "Nope. Just the opposite in fact, Bridge was talking about expansion projects. Said he was glad to see the back of Sundown, that Connelly had done him a favour."

"He was lying!" declared Jane, firmly, as he took his place back on the couch. "He clearly had the perfect motive – everything he had crafted – gone - along with a huge amount of money - _and_ he had opportunity…" He gestured towards the file on Grace's desk with his cup. "Connelly went back to see him to tell him he'd reconsidered, but it was too late. The company had already had their assets frozen. They argued, and bam…Bridge hits him in the back of the head with something heavy, drives the body to the Sacramento River and dumps it in the water. You mark my words, I think you'll find that that's your killer." Jane did a little ta-da with his arms, a saucer in one hand and his cup in the other.

Lisbon let the theory sink in and then directed Cho and Rigsby to go and pick up Jacob Bridges. As they left, she turned her gaze back to Jane, who was smirking triumphantly to himself. "Where did all that come from?" she asked.

Jane looked up at her. "Jacob Bridge at Sundown," he explained, as if she should have been able to follow his thought process. "I was looking at the Sacramento Bridge as the sun was going down right before I got hit by that car…"

"Ohhh," acknowledged Lisbon, as the dots began to connect.

Van Pelt smiled. "That's pretty cool, Jane…the way you pieced it all together like that." She bit her lip in admiration, and then turned back to her computer.

Whilst facing Jane, Lisbon wrinkled her brow and used her hand in front of her to gesture in Grace's direction, so that the red-head wouldn't see her. "What's _that_ all about?" she mouthed at the consultant. Jane shrugged as his eyes wandered past the brunette's elbow. There was definitely something different about Van Pelt. He considered for a moment and then excused himself from the bullpen.

Lisbon called after him, "Jane?" He looked back over his shoulder and leaned backwards to hear what she had to say. "Good job…on _both_ cases… Thanks," she added, respectfully. Jane took a little bow and headed off towards the roof stairwell. Lisbon smirked and shook her head, but she was once again rendered incredulous when Jane stepped back into sight and wished her luck on her date.

"You'll realise he isn't as appealing when he's not in a white coat," he added, "…but don't let that stop you from having a good time, Lisbon. You deserve to let your hair down once in a while." He winked at her, did a little spin as if dancing with an imaginary partner and then bounded back to the staircase.

Lisbon's mouth dropped open as she tried to figure how he could possibly know for sure that she'd arranged to have dinner with Dr Mark Henry. After a few moments, she gave up trying, accepting the fact that she would probably never be able to understand how his mind worked.

CBICBICBICBICBI

Lisbon wasn't the only one puzzling over how Jane's mind worked. He was having a hard time understanding it himself at present. The consultant sat on his chair in the middle of his area in the roof space, staring at the wall of maps, photos and documents that he had created in his endless hunt for Red John. He had remembered the thousands of people that he had met with over the years since his family's murder and had whittled the numbers down to a few hundred. But there was still a lot of work to be done. Rolling his head around to loosen the muscles, he let out a heavy breath. His head was starting to pound again and, whilst massaging his temple with one hand, he retrieved a small bottle of aspirin from his jacket pocket with the other. He popped the lid and used the cold dregs of a previous cup of tea to swallow the pills. He rolled his head again and then clambered wearily onto the make-shift bed that had become his home.

As he closed his eyes, an image flashed behind the lids:

_It was dark, and blurry. He could barely make out the scene. The ground was wet – it looked like an alley – a dead end, maybe. _ Jane opened his eyes again and looked around. He was definitely still at the CBI. He gave a quick shake of his head and then closed his eyes again. _ Blue and red lights pulsated, casting an eerie glow. Debris littered the hard, concrete ground - tiny shards of broken glass and a few spent cartridge cases. _As he shifted slightly, causing the homemade bed to creak, Jane's breathing rate began to increase.Within his orbital sockets, there was rapid eye movement. S_omething else lay on the ground – something flat and shiny. Before he had a chance to fix on the object, the focus shifted to the wall ahead of him. _Jane's breath caught in his throat. _A familiar red symbol flashed against the bricks of the wall._ The consultant moaned gently. He let out his suppressed breath_. The focus drifted downwards. Sticking out from behind the large dumpster that rested beneath the painted smiley face, were a pair of small, black-booted feet._

On the make-shift bed in the roof space, Jane shifted a leg until it was bent at the knee. Unconsciously, his arm reached up in front of his eyes, as if trying to shield himself from the horrific sight before his mind's eye. His breathing came rapidly through flared nostrils. His jaw was clamped shut, causing the muscles in his cheeks to twitch as he fought back the nausea that was threatening to engulf him.

_The painted face seemed to zoom in and out, laughing and mocking. _Jane snapped his head to one side and flung his eyes open. It took a few moments to regain his focus. Slowly, he began to sit up. He rubbed a hand across his forehead.

Gradually, regaining his composure, he swung his legs down and moved closer to the decorated wall adjacent to the foot of the bed. He trained his eyes on the different sets of images – victims, associates, locations. He then allowed his gaze to wander slowly across all of the other pieces of information, stopping on one particular piece of paper. Thoughtfully, Jane held a hand over his mouth. He stared blindly through the bedecked brick work as his mind tried to piece together the complicated fragments that would close the gap between him and his nemesis, Red John. He inhaled a long, deep breath and released it heavily, allowing his shoulders to slump.

He turned and stepped over to the chair in the centre of the room to retrieve his jacket. He had draped it across the back of the seat before lying down. As he grabbed it, he noticed a pamphlet on the desk near the window. It was from the hospital; an info sheet about symptoms and after-effects of temporal lobe seizures. At first, he thought Lisbon must have left it for him, but then he remembered the padlock he'd placed on the sliding door – he was the only one with the key. He came to the conclusion that he must have, absent-mindedly, placed it there himself. He _had_ had a lot to think about over the last few days, after all. He shoved the paper into his jacket pocket and headed for the sliding door. In an attempt to shake off the disturbing image in his mind, he decided he needed some tea. He rattled the super-strong padlock as he left - just to check - and made his way downstairs.

The bullpen was strangely quiet. Cho had already left, and Rigsby was just putting his jacket on and heading off for the night. Jane waved his saucer as the tall agent passed by and said goodnight. The cinnamon-blonde quietly placed himself at the near end of his leather couch and sipped his tea. Van Pelt wandered in to collect her belongings. She had just opened her drawer when she became aware of the consultant's presence. Quickly, she pushed it closed again without taking anything out. "Oh, hey Jane! Didn't see you there."

Patrick gave a close-lipped smile. "Just sitting here…quietly…minding my own business…enjoying my tea," he muttered quietly. Van Pelt seemed to linger for a moment, then she leaned down to reclaim her bag and pulled her jacket from the back of her chair. She gave a quick wave, "Night Jane."

"Everything alright, Grace?" he enquired.

Grace stopped, thought for a second and then mysteriously answered, "Yep, I think it is…Well, good night," she repeated and walked off towards the exit.

Jane watched after her, thoughtfully. Then his eyes moved to her desk drawer. He sat for a moment, finishing off his tea. Carefully, he placed the cup and saucer onto the filing drawer by his side and stood up. Casting a glance around, he overextended his arms out widely at either sides, pretending to stretch, and took a step closer to Van Pelt's desk. With a sweeping look around, Jane opened her drawer and saw the envelope. He picked it up.

"What you doing?" teased Lisbon from behind him. Jane dropped the envelope quickly onto Grace's desk and tried to hide it by placing his hand on top of it in an awkward attempt to lean on the desk.

Lisbon's eyes were too quick. "What you got there?" she asked, taking a step forward.

Jane's eyes darted around, "Nothing," he replied, a little too quickly. "What are you doing here, anyway?" He asked, changing the subject. "Aren't you supposed to be on your _hot date_ with Dr Henry?" He gave a petulant roll of his eyes as he said it.

Lisbon pulled a face and smirked, "Nah, blew him off…you were right…without the white coat…" She let her words hang in the air, seeming a little befuddled by her own comment.

Jane raised an eyebrow and smirked back. He shifted slightly so that he was now half-perched on Grace's desk, obscuring the envelope completely. But Lisbon wasn't giving up. "So…what have you got?"

Jane sighed and stood up. He held up the focus of his interest. "Possibly the reason for Van Pelt's Mother Teresa act…_Teresa_." He flashed both eyebrows.

"Hmmm?" Lisbon sidled over, intrigued. Like a couple of naughty students they huddled together, checking around to make sure no one would disturb them.

"Eh voila!" declared Jane, as he pulled out the card, his face close to Lisbon's. They were almost cheek to cheek.

"Ooooh, you think Grace has a secret admirer?" said Lisbon, playing along with, and enjoying, the mystique.

"Only one way to find out," replied Jane, positioning his thumb, ready to flip the card open. He stared into Lisbon's brown eyes. "Ready?"

Lisbon bashed him on the arm, with playful impatience, "Just open it!"

At the sight of the stamped logo and cursive style handwritten message, the childish grins vanished instantly from their faces. They stared, open-mouthed at a familiar blue, all-seeing eye that stared back at them. Beneath it read the words, '_Glad to have been of service_,' signed '_Bret Stiles_'.

Jane's cognitive wheels immediately began spinning. Lisbon, on the other hand, had been stunned into silence. Her mouth tried to form words that weren't ready to come out.

Eventually, she found her voice, "Van Pelt and Bret Stiles?... We have to confront her about this." She looked to Jane for agreement, but she didn't like the expression on his face.

"Do we?" he uttered.

"Oh c'mon, Jane. If Grace is a member of Visualize, we have to do something about it."

Jane focused fully on the brunette as he pushed the card back into the envelope, "Let's not rush into anything, Lisbon."

The small woman was incredulous. She was beginning to get a sense of the meaning in Jane's hesitance. "No way! You are not using Grace as bait. I won't allow it."

Jane's countenance continued its attempt to convince her. "Think about it…" he began.

Lisbon shook her head adamantly. The consultant grabbed her by her upper arms and stooped to look directly into her eyes. He didn't need to speak. Lisbon let out a reluctant moan and tried to tear her gaze away, his expression was beginning to have its desired effect. "But what if something happens to her? We can't take the risk," she pressed.

Jane dropped his hold. "It's always better to worry about something after the fact, Lisbon, than to never know what could have been." He replaced the envelope inside the top drawer of Van Pelt's desk and began to move away in the direction of the walkway. He needed to return to his thinking space to consider this new piece of information.

Lisbon followed him. "Right. I forgot I was talking to someone who has no comprehension of the word regret."

"I have regrets," admitted Jane, as they rounded the corner outside Lisbon's office.

"Really?" queried Lisbon, sardonically.

"Several actually."

"Yeah? Name one," dared the brunette.

Jane gave her a light-hearted look, pausing at the foot of the stairwell. "Can't do that," he exclaimed.

"Why not?"

The expectant expression on Lisbon's face amused him. "Because then I would regret telling you and it would add to the tremendous burden that already weighs heavy on my mind," was his playful response.

A crease formed at the top of Lisbon's nose, "Shut up!" she muttered, reciprocating his tone.

Jane ascended the first couple of steps. He glanced down, thoughtfully, then continued towards his perch, "Night Lisbon..."

Even though he wasn't looking, Lisbon offered a brief wave of her hand. She moved to the elevator and pressed the call button. Despite the heavy load that burdened her own mind, she couldn't prevent the flicker of a smile when Jane's voice continued to float down the stairwell. "Don't do anything you'll regret!" The melodious manner in his tone veiled the subtext in his advice.

Sitting once more on the edge of his makeshift cot, Jane began perusing his thoughts. This new turn of events was intriguing. Inwardly, he chastised himself. He should have seen it earlier. The change in Van Pelt's demeanour was a clear indicator. Her recent vulnerability made her perfect fodder for Bret Stiles and his band of merry brothers. Jane inhaled deeply and rolled his neck from side to side, simultaneously allowing a yawn to escape. It had been a very long day. Gently, he reclined onto the thin mattress and rested his weary head on a pillow. He yawned again and closed his eyes, hoping that slumber would recharge and refresh his mind.

Almost instantly the flash of images from earlier returned. _The alley was wet. The flat object was still visible; it was a wallet, no, not a wallet…an ID case. There was a badge. It was difficult to see clearly because of the blood – there was so much blood. It streaked across the gold metal shield and covered most of the ID card. _A low moan growled in Jane's throat._ Crimson fluid obscured the photo but some of the lettering was visible. _The consultant's breathing became shallow. His head roamed from side to side across the pillow. Another flash - _The ID came into focus – a word ; Agent - and the first letter that followed. It was a T – _Jane's body began to tremble as he lay alone in the roof space. _A flash of red- more blood, then more letters, at the end of the line - an O and an N._

A strangled shout erupted from Jane's lips as he sat bolt upright "No!" His forehead glistened and it took him a moment to raise his cusped hands in front of his nose and mouth in a futile attempt to control his breathing. His trance-like gaze automatically landed upon an image of Red John's calling card and he gulped against the rising nausea.

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